


Beginning and End

by simplesetgo



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: F/F, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-13
Updated: 2010-12-13
Packaged: 2017-10-18 01:15:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/183356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simplesetgo/pseuds/simplesetgo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The four of them have parted ways before, but something is different this time.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Beginning and End

**Author's Note:**

> A result of musing on the ever-present "Richard problem" that C/K shippers face. And despite the title, fair warning: this ficlet is only a beginning. It doesn't, and won't, have a middle or end.

None of them know how long she’ll be away, and stepping to the old Wizard, embracing his tall and thin frame, seems to finalize things in a way she doesn’t like. He places his hands on her shoulders as she presses her cheek against his robes, and his voice rumbles in his chest, reminding her of a grandfather she never had. “My dear, I will sorely miss your stew,” he chuckles. “Do what is required of you, but only that, and hurry back before I waste away.”

She smiles as she steps back. “So that’s all I am to you,” she teases. “A housewife to cook your dinners.”

His voice lowers, becoming deadly serious, and the expression on his wizened face falls to match. “Surely you don’t consider what those two attempt to be worthy of the name?”

“Watch out for them, Zedd,” she says, her smile broadening.

He nods solemnly in answer, then hesitates. “Keep two eyes open for yourself. There are those who will not welcome your visit, however long or short.”

“I will,” she promises, before stepping around him. Richard waits to the side, with his hand resting on his sword, but she knows she has to save his eternal embrace for last. Avoiding his gaze, she walks instead to where Cara is leaned down, adjusting the cinches on her saddled horse and completely ignoring her approach. She didn’t expect anything less; the blonde is nothing if not reliable. In what she both does and doesn’t do.

“Cara,” she says, keeping her tone light. “What are you doing?”

“I’m preparing your mount,” Cara replies flatly, speaking directly into the horse’s side. “Your saddle was too tight.”

“I see.”

With that she waits, patiently and silently, until Cara can’t possibly fidget with the small buckles any longer. When she does finally stand straight, her arms hanging loosely at her sides, her face is completely expressionless. On anyone else it might seem callous, or cruelly indifferent. On Cara it means exactly the opposite, and she knows it.

“Take care of Richard while I’m gone,” she says quietly. “Protect him for me.”

Cara’s eyes roll, her arms rising to cross against her chest. “You think I wouldn’t?”

“I know you will,” she says, unable keep the small and satisfied smile from her lips. “I just wanted to see that one more time before I left.”

“See what?” Cara asks suspiciously.

“Nothing,” she replies. Stepping forward quickly, suddenly, she attempts to embrace Cara before the Mord-Sith can recoil or back away, and she finds her success with warm leather against her body and an audibly annoyed sigh in her ear. “Take care of yourself, too, Cara,” she adds. “I mean it. I don’t want a single tear in your leather when I return.”

Cara oiled her soft armor earlier that day, and as she tightens arms around her back and shoulders to secure her victory, the scent of leather fills her nostrils. Taking a deep breath in, she lets herself run a firm palm up and down her back as a spontaneous indulgence, and Cara sighs a second time, exaggeratedly, still having not removed her arms from her own chest. She takes the hint, finally stepping back, Cara’s soft, smooth cheek brushing lightly against her own as she does so. After debating whether to try and draw a smirk from the blonde, she quickly realizes she has enough memories of such to last a lifetime. However long she’ll be away, she hopes it’s far shorter than that.

She wonders if she can tell Cara that she’ll miss her, and she doesn’t realize she is staring until the Mord-Sith clears her throat and nods pointedly behind her. “You have a Seeker of Truth staring wistfully at your back.”

“Oh,” she says, blinking. Turning around, she quickly sees just how true Cara’s words are. Richard looks positively forlorn, and she’s suddenly almost guilty for not feeling as lost as he appears. She crosses the distance between them in quick strides, wordlessly embracing him, and his strong arms wrap tightly around her in turn. She smells his warm and familiar scent, almost too strong, as she lays her chin against his neck.

“I wish you didn’t have to go,” he whispers, into her ear, following with a kiss there.

She gently pushes him away to arm’s length and gives him a reassuring smile. “I could be back soon, remember?”

“You could also be gone a long time,” Richard says sadly. His brown eyes are open and soft, and his brow is furrowed with concern. She wonders, not for the first time since hearing she has to leave, if the Seeker’s quest will suffer during her absence due to the melancholy distraction of its leader. It happened before, and by Zedd’s account Cara’s stepping in narrowly saved the three of them from catastrophe.

“I’ll try not to be,” she offers.

“I wish I could come with you.” He looks down, guiltily. “Maybe I could. Zedd and Cara—”

“Richard,” she interrupts softly, sharply. There was a time she would have permitted such thinking, perhaps even allowed the resulting action, but not anymore. She has grown up, gained the ability to see past the oft-dangerous wiles of a romantic heart. Richard has not, and it frustrates her that he seems so content in his infancy. “You know what you’re doing is more important,” she tells him, once she is sure her voice won’t betray her.

His jaw tightens as he nods in reluctant acceptance, and then he kisses her. She lets him, as she always does, and kisses him back as a parting gift. “Promise me you’ll be careful,” he sighs, laying his forehead to her own with his rough hands cupping her neck.

She nods, as best she can, and he embraces her again, nearly drawing a wince from her as his coarse stubble presses against her cheek. “I love you, and I’ll miss you,” he says firmly.

“I’ll miss you, too,” she replies, extricating herself with a small smile. “But the sooner I leave, the sooner I can return.”

The three of them stand in a row as they see her off, and as she sets off down the dusty road, alone, she purposefully avoids thinking of Richard’s clinging embrace, his rough cheek on her skin. She lifts a hand from the reins to hook loose hair behind her ear, and she pauses, taken captive for a moment by a strong leather scent on her palm.

Not a few moments later, around a curve and out of sight, it happens again, and this time she breathes in the scent a little deeper.


End file.
